Forgotten
by MelodyHolmes
Summary: After His last vow. Molly leaves, will Sherlock ever find her again and explain why he didn't say goodbye.
1. Chapter 1

**Forgotten**

Hurt and angry, yes that's what she felt. A whole storm of emotion running through her, her mind could barely grasp at one within the mix. The pain was creating its own gaping hole in her chest. Tears making tracks down her cheeks, she didn't feel them anymore, just the mild irritation of salt on her eyeballs and under her lids. Everyone had, had their goodbye before he was shipped off to god knows where. He had murdered a man in cold blood. It was unbelievable, she had not wished to. Mary had come to her explained everything, even down to the revelation that it was her that had shot Sherlock. It was too much to take in all at once. She had sat down with a very large coffee to still her nerves. Now he was back a reprieve from above and a pardon if he found out who had plastered Moriarty's face all across England. Terror had run through her veins, when the mad man had appeared on the hospital TV. She needed to make a decision; obviously she meant little to him. Not even enough to say goodbye too, she hadn't even seen him since the fateful day she had slapped him.

Signing heavily as her heart dropped to her stomach, as she read her resignation letter once again. Mike at least would be sorry to see her go she was sure. She had accumulated a good amount of holiday in her time and intended to use it as her notice.

Dear Mike,

It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter. I hereby hand in my resignation, this decision is nothing to do with work conditions or and hospital staff. I need to go purely for personal reasons. As you know I have had some very interesting job offers. I have accepted a position elsewhere, though where I will not tell you and I'm sure you will understand why. I would like to end by saying how much I have loved working here and I hope you will bare me no ill will for such short notice. I have talked to Doctor Monroe he has agreed to cover for me while you find a new pathologist. The rest of my notice I shall take as holiday, it will give me ample time to move my belongings. I will miss you.

Yours sincerely

Molly Hooper.

Again as she read the letter a fresh wave of tears overwhelmed her. Picking herself up, she marched from the morgue and to Mike's office. Delicately she placed the letter sealed and signed onto his desk. For the last time she left the hospital. St Bart's would not be the same ever again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Two weeks later

He hadn't been to the morgue for two months, some sort of record for him. He had taken any case, any case at all to keep him from St Bart's. It's not that he was scared to face the petit woman who resided there. Her fury had struck a chord with him and he could not bear her disappointment. Even though the drug use had been for a case, the most important case to date. The result of it had banished him to exile from his home. From his family and loved ones, not that he would ever admit to those sentimental feelings lesser mortals were prone to. He had said his goodbye to the other's but could not bear to see the sadness and pain shine from Molly's eyes. He had seen that look too many times, mostly caused by himself. His heart, what little of it he admitted to broke at the thought. To witness that amount of grief was more than he could stand. Just the image of those brown orbs shining with tears brought him physical pain.

He had been a coward, something he was not used to one bit. Though he regretted it now, he knew the true reason he couldn't tolerate her presence at the scene of his leaving. He was afraid, deadly afraid that if he saw her he would be unable to leave. He had come to realise that he harboured a similar affection to her that she did for him. Yes love was exactly what he felt for her, had for quite some time. To realise this before having to leave it behind, was the worst kind of pain he had ever experienced. Then when Moriarty had made an appearance his blood had run cold. So he had distanced himself, drawing all the attention onto himself. He wanted to shield her just in case Moriarty was real, he want no lead he could follow back to her. She was his queen and the only one who had captured his heart and mind. With a quiet purpose he entered the morgue. He would explain to Molly everything that had happened, his reason for murder, her absence from the send off and his from that time on. He would throw himself on her mercy. Beg her to consider an us between them, he refused to be a boyfriend. Only there was no Molly, he checked his watch. 10:30am it was a Tuesday, he had her schedule memorised after all. Instead a tall, short brown haired man stood in her place. His long features heightened by the over head lights. His scruffy beard covered most of his face, even though it was only a short one it gave him a look of a cowboy. Instantly he disliked the man.

"Can I help you sir, by rights you not allowed down here?" If Sherlock disliked him before he hated him now. The thick American accent grated on his nerves. The man's cheerful nature made him scowl but there was a sombre depth to him, obviously hiding a big secret. He had repaired watches at some point. Before he got tired of his work and decided on a different career path.

"Yes, fetch me Molly Hooper. Please" He added as an afterthought. Instantly he dismissed the yank. He turned toward Molly's office.

"You won't find her in there. Molly left; she had a great job offer and accepted. You must be Mr Holmes, I was told about you. Your access is allowed at the highest level. I did wonder when we would meet and why you only ever came here on Molly's shifts."

His statements were like ice, Molly, gone. Sherlock could feel the blood drain from his face. He felt as if he were being torn this way and that. Part of him wanted to squeeze every last morsel of information from Mr Monroe or run from the room and track Molly down. He stilled his mind black as a slate. Even the door opening behind him and the set of two people's footfalls didn't even break through.

"Sherlock, Greg text me, we have a case I believe and I need to get away from Marys hormones for a bit." John laughed "Sherlock?"

"It seems my brother has finally found out about Miss Hooper's resignation." Mycroft's droll tone finally broke through.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"What do you know? Mycroft, if you had something to do with this!" Sherlock whispered sounding more lethal than ever. If it were possible for flames to shoot from his icy orbs, then Mycroft would be a pile of ash on the floor. His fury burned through his veins, seeking along every line till it hummed in his finger tips.

"If you must know dear brother, Miss Hooper contacted me some weeks ago. She was quite upset; she wished to request a favour." Mycroft's high and mighty attitude was enough, Sherlock snapped. Seized him buy his overpriced jacket lapels and with swift movements rammed him up the nearest wall.

"What have you done?!" Sherlock all but screamed into his brother's face. He vibrated with anger. Never had he thought she would abandon him like this, she was the only constant in his life. She had been his stalwart standing fast. A unshakeable presence and most of all she was always there. For her diminutive size he felt safe with her, emotionally safe an odd thing for a sociopath to feel. There was no home here anymore her absence almost palatable, a hollow feeling settled in his gut. He felt her seep out of his every atom, slipping away from him leaving the world grey and colourless.

"Sherlock, what in the devil is wrong with you? She merely requested that I stop my surveillance of her. I was quite surprised that she had spotted them, as per you instruction my best men were watch her. After this sanitizing conversation, I took it upon myself to check on few things." At his brothers words Sherlock slowly lower Mycroft back to the floor.

"After a brief and enlightening look into Miss Hooper's finances, I found a large withdrawal by a removal company. Hence my deduction that Molly had indeed moved away." Sherlock let go of his brother, Mycroft shocked at his brother's outburst of aggression dusted of his lapels and picked off a bit of lint with distain.

Sherlock started pacing so furiously that John worried he would wear a hole in the floor. John understood that Sherlock was a very bottled up individual, all his talk of being a sociopath was in his opinion rubbish. His friend felt too deeply and so masked it in indifference and called himself sociopath. This however was not what he could have predicted of his friend. He knew Sherlock thought highly of Molly but to go raving mad over her absence; if he did know better he would say Sherlock loved her. That of course wasn't possible was it, he wasn't as sure as Sherlock began muttering to himself.

"Mycroft leave I need to think." He remarked, making a shooing motion with his hands. With an indignant huff Mycroft turned on his heels and strode out of the morgue.

"John, she's gone what do, I do. What would you do if it were Mary?" Bloody hell he does love her, was the only thought that went through John's head. Now she was gone and Sherlock looked like a lost Puppy.

"Bloody hell, Sherlock why didn't you say anything?" He said running a hand through the sandy grey of his hair. He still couldn't quite believe what he was hearing.

"What I would do? Doesn't matter it's what you're going to do now. You need to fix this Sherlock but first we must find Molly"


	4. Chapter 4

Captain John Watson of the 6th Northumberland fusiliers was for all intents and purposes shell-shocked. His friend Mr Sherlock Holmes had just admitted being in love with the mild and strong hearted Doctor Molly Hooper. Fate however was not a kind mistress, just as Sherlock had come to disclose his feelings and exclaim his love, Molly had moved for reasons unknown, the good Doctor could see the panic set in his friend eyes and the strain of having no clue or hope of finding the woman he loved. Now all John Watson wanted was to aid his best friend. He wondered quite a while on the drive back to Baker Street, what made Molly leave. Surely nothing at work could have stressed her so; there was no way she would give up on the work she loved. That left one solution Sherlock, due to strange hours and morbid humour Molly had very few friends. What had his friend done for god sake to make her leave?

"Sherlock, what could have made Molly leave?" John asked trying to make his voice relaxed, not the nervous fool he felt.

"Me! It has to be. I know you have worked that much out." Pain laced his voice as if tiny dagger were piercing his throat.

"I neglected the most precious person in my life, negating all I ever assured her."

"What do you mean?" John's curiosity won out.

"On the day before my fall we came to the lab with the missing child's case remember. I was at the microscope talking with Molly. That was where I saw clearly how much my fake indifference had and continues to hurt and harm her. She told me in that moment that she of all people didn't count. That night I went to her for help, I told her she counted, that she had always counted and I always trusted her. What she hadn't realised from that moment to now, was that I had fallen for her. Now after my ignoring her and my feelings I have lost the only woman I could ever consider being mine." This speech was delivered at hyper speed by a man trying to rid himself of his own loathing. John was dumbstruck, the power and extent of Sherlock's pain was so raw. That it consumed the man's voice like a black hole. Instead of the strong sure self it was strained and low.

John's mind was a wash. They had to find Molly.


	5. Chapter 5

Time had swiftly moved on, the haze of summer gave way the breeze of autumn. 221b looked much the same, the same however could not be said of its residence. A greyer and more exasperated landlord could be seen taking precious cups of coffee up and down worn stairs. Sometimes the fretting man above would down scalding coffee in one, or else throw them upon the walls. His state being that of an increasingly desperate man. It had been a hard time since the disappearance of Molly, today found Sherlock lying across his couch, head curled and hands steepled. His thoughts wrapped up with his pathologist. He had tried every means at his disposal but she had foreseen all aspects and had not left him with a single clue. Now he had succumbed to melancholy. He saw no way of ever finding her. He had checked with deed poll no Molly Hooper had registered a name changed. No one had seen or heard from her and she had managed to lose his tail before leaving. Mycroft was no help after boarding a plane to Paris she had disappeared.

Nothing was left of her and he simply couldn't cope, he by his own estimation had lost at least 2 stone. His clothes now hung from his meagre frame, the concern of his friend could not make him eat. John was now an almost daily visitor, his dinner hour taken up with trying to feed him. Mycroft even visited more often, much to his annoyance. Now instead of smug superiority he saw pity in his brother's eyes, so like his own that it was like looking in a mirror. So close to giving up the fight that his left hand hovered over his secret stash often enough that only the thought of her disapproval stayed his hand.

Just as his hand once again drifted towards that loose floorboard, the downstairs door burst open and a cacophony. Two pair of feet stormed the stairs, crashing through the door came both his best friend and his wife.

"Well, to what do I owe the pleasure? Come for and intervention, or to try and feed me up?" The words falling like acid from his lips. By the narrowing of John's eyes he could tell he'd said something a bit not good. Sighing he attempted to apologize.

Mary however had a different idea.

"We will deal with your lack of manners in a while but first we have news. We found Molly!" the words hung in the air like and electrical charge. Sherlock sat in shock. The world became a hum or static background noise. She had been found… A strange elation began forming in his chest a chance, a mere glimmer of hope. Cocooned in this bubble he was whole once again till all measure of time left him. His mind sped forming and calculating a plan. This was his shot and he wouldn't waste it.

Coming back to the world was a slow process Johns voice was the one he heard first.

"I'm telling you, he was like this when I asked him to be my best man. He's fine" Only then did he notice the change of position that had occurred while he was thinking. His friends now sat opposite each other. John sat in his respective chair and Mary in his own quietly conversing.

"I have never seen him go this deep before, he didn't even feel my slapping him." Now she mentioned it there was a dull ache in his left cheek

"Show me!" He startled the pair who turned at his voice.

"How do you know I have something to show?" asked Mary a sly smile curving. AH a test just to see if he was back.

"On your arrival, you took the stairs two at time. The scuff on your left shoe shows u kicked the step in front at least twice in your haste. When you came through the keys to my door were still in your hand. Showing the urgency with which you desired to see me. On your face you had an excited and relieved smile. Your hand unseen was clearly holding onto something in the left pocket of the jacket now resting on the back of my chair. Need I go on?" In normal sherlockian insistence he held his hand out for Mary's phone. On it was a tweet about a lecture being held in Edinburgh? Besides which was a picture of Molly. The caption read, Foxy science chick, can teach me bout chemistry any day. The last was met by a fierce scowl on the face of our detective. How dare some snott nosed, hair brained intern call his moll Foxy. Well off to Edinburgh it is, Once he was looking a bit better. He wanted to sweep her off her feet, not scare the living daylights out of her with his current condition.

"I need food!" he turned to the shocked faces of the others.

"Finally!" came The weary voice of Mrs Hidson from the door.


	6. Chapter 6

Three months in and Molly was a different woman, yes she was always strong hearted. She had to be to put up with a certain mans moods and sways. Funny that in the four months of her absence, tim had not tempered her hurt. Still every morning she would wake to the throb in her chest. The smallest part of her that longed to see him, to hear his low voice rumble through a room. To watch those eyes that, were so sharp in discerning fact from fiction but were of little use for comfort or compassion. Her heart still held on to him, refusing to let go the dwindling hope, that he may yet seek her out. She knew it was impossible she had left no trace no one knew where she had gone. The advantage of having a scary job and no social life, no loose ends to tie up.

Now she was going under her mother's maiden name, after explaining the need to the dean. Edinburgh University and medical college had been very accommodating. She looked out upon the pristine teaching auditorium. She felt empty; she missed her lab, her morgue. Still she continued to read her notes for the coming lesson, as the horde or youths descended on her she steeled herself. Turning she addressed them.

"Well class, today we will be studying the decomposition of cell tissue from a four week old cadaver." The groans emitting from them, sent a pang of longing for those that would have been overjoyed to read or experiment with this information. She was sure that while in university herself, she had been a most enthusiastic student. Her years studying were filled with musty books and research, the more she read the more she wished to learn. Endless day would go by where she wouldn't speak to a soul, as caught up with her studies as she was. Some time when she was alone or had a rare day off she would make her way to the university library and catch up on all the newest discoveries. "Yes, Please open your books to page 293"

Unknown to her a set of ocean blue eyes watched from the back row. The lecture went well and swiftly, now to Molly's dismay came the students turn to ask questions. This was the only part of her job she disliked immensely. Now was the moment of truth had the class been listening. After all she had spent the best part of her weekend writing her lesson plan. Silence had fallen on the hall. Molly started to worry her lip.

"I have a question if you don't mind? Come home?" The man with the dazzling eyes stood looking down on his pathologist, still slightly gaunt but much improved from the dismal creature he had let himself become a month had but some meat back onto his bones. If you looked close enough you could still see the toll the loss had taken on him. A collective gasp resounded through the hall; all eyes had turned to stare at him. The eyes of one woman filled with tears that sent her running from the hall. Sherlock was quick to give case his long legs striding out in front as he called her name.

"Molly. Molly please STOP!"


End file.
